


The Powerful Magic of Footwear

by bookstoreromantic



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: 3b AU, F/M, clearly it got away from me, i have no idea what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 09:34:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2104707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookstoreromantic/pseuds/bookstoreromantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the face of the threat posed by Zelena, fate and circumstance conspire to bring Emma and Henry to the Enchanted Forest before the re-casting of the Dark Curse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Powerful Magic of Footwear

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the lovely emeraldromance on tumblr as my CSSS gift. My inquiries had produced a request for angst, Emma being jealous over Tinkerbell, and Killian in jeans. And I... mostly delivered? Honestly, I have no idea what this is as it wasn’t what I had initially planned on writing. I suppose it answers the question that no one was asking: What would the CS development in 3b look like if they were stuck on a boat? There’s some angst here, and the fairy makes an appearance, but I didn’t manage to get Killian into jeans. In fact, I kind of wound up doing the opposite. Oops.

            Once upon a time, this was all he’d ever wanted: the _Jolly Roger_ , a good crew, and the open ocean. Centuries ago, he had prowled the seas taking what he wanted, exacting his vengeance on the king who had stolen his brother by sinking his ships one by one. When Milah came aboard her fire had soothed that hunger for a time. They’d sailed wherever they pleased, roamed further than he ever had before, and been happy together. Losing Liam had turned him into a pirate, and losing Milah had turned him into a villain, but both times he’d been filled by the loss. It had burned inside of him, fueled him, transformed him into what he needed to be to take his revenge. But it was having Emma that had transformed him — not that he’d ever truly had her in any sense of the word, but the idea, the hope of her had been enough. Losing her had turned him into nothing more than an empty shell, a man trying to wear the ill-fitting mask of his former self.

            Villains didn’t get happy endings. Killian had been certain that Emma was his chance, but whatever they might have had, he gave it up so that she could have a happy ending of her own. He’d always tried to think of himself as more than only a villain or a pirate — a man of honour at his core. But honour had cost him his hope. If there was no happy ending in the cards for him, if life was determined to continuously rip away everything that he loved, surely he deserved to be considered as no better than a storybook villain.

            He’d prayed to whatever gods were left that getting the _Jolly_ back would light the fire under him again but there was no joy to be found in piracy anymore. That damned mermaid with her talk of love and heroes and how he’d betrayed those ideals had burdened him with guilt. He told himself it didn’t matter. He would never see Emma again. It didn’t matter what she would think of the man he’d become in her absence.

            He _needed_ it not to matter. He was having enough trouble living with himself as it was.

            A disturbance on the horizon caught his eye and he straightened immediately at the helm. The sky had been clear just moments ago, but now a twisting, unnatural cloud had formed up ahead off the _Jolly’s_ starboard side. Killian didn’t need his spyglass to make out that it was headed towards the ship — streams of white and green cloud spinning together in a slender column that would be beautiful if not for the violent winds that were churning up the sea.

             Cursing under his breath, he bellowed orders to the crew and turned the wheel hard to port in an attempt to dodge the worst of the twisting storm. The _Jolly Roger_ was the fastest brig on the seas, but the magical storm mirrored their change in course and within a minute it was upon them. Killian held tight to the wheel as they were consumed by the winds. He’d heard of such storms before. Heard tales where a cyclone had appeared out of nowhere and deposited men in different realms seemingly at random. He’d never heard of one at sea before.

            The bewitched storm engulfed the deck and then vanished as quickly as it had appeared. Killian opened his eyes to blue skies, calm seas, and a wind that was little more than a stiff breeze. Around him the crew celebrated the tornado’s disappearance, cheering and clapping each other on the back. A cursory glance around revealed that the twister seemed to have done no damage at all, nor had it swept them to a different realm. He let out a breath of relief and opened his mouth to order the crew back to work when his eyes fell on a familiar mop of brown hair. The boy pushed himself up and spun around frantically, eyes scanning the deck. Hook’s heart started to beat so strongly, he was certain that it would jump from his chest and lodge itself in his throat.

            _Henry_.

            He was mid-stride on his way down from the quarterdeck when a beastly shriek from above made him whip his head around, trying to pinpoint the new threat. There was a blur of grey and wings off the _Jolly’s_ starboard side, streaking down to attack something in the ocean. Henry was also tracking its movement, and he pushed his way through the pirates to lean over the rail of the ship.

            “Mom?!”

* * *

            Emma coughed up a mouthful of saltwater as the twister finally cleared, flailing in the water, disoriented after being whipped around while crossing realms. Pushing the hair out of her face she checked her surroundings. There was a ship in front of her, no land in sight, and no sign of Henry. She’d held onto him as tightly as she could when the tornado had picked them up, crushing him to her chest until the gale-force winds had forced them apart.

            Taking as big a gulp of air as she could into her lungs, Emma ducked underwater and scanned the frigid ocean quickly, with no luck. She had been knocked out of the storm by their unwelcome travel companion, but there was a chance that Henry had landed on the ship. _Or in another realm entirely_.

            Emma pushed back up to the surface and refocused on the ship, eyes traveling up until they landed on the crimson flag flying from the main mast. Losing Henry wasn’t an option. He was on the deck, he had to be. Taking another deep breath, she put her head down and started to swim. She’d barely made it two strokes when a shriek came from above and she looked up to see a flying monkey hurtling towards her out of the sky.

            There was no way she’d make it to the ship, let alone up onto it, without being attacked. She dove instead, taking in a huge breath and going down, down, down, hoping that the water would hurt his momentum enough that she could avoid the initial strike. Swimming towards the ship as soon as she thought she was deep enough, she checked over her shoulder only when she heard the break in the water.

            He got deeper than she’d hoped. His speed and weight pushed him further under the waves, but he seemed to have difficulty keeping his wings tucked underwater, which hurt how fast he could swim. The burn in her lungs drove her legs as she kicked upwards, panting hard as she surfaced. Her fingers were starting to go numb from the cold and she grit her teeth, forcing herself to stay focused on reaching the ship. There was another splash, ahead of her this time, and she hesitated for a moment before clawed hands grabbed her ankle.

            Emma shouted and thrashed in the water, swallowing mouthful after mouthful of water as the monkey pulled her backwards. Emma fought desperately to get away, knowing she couldn’t risk getting too close to the monster’s teeth. _Don’t get bit_ , _don’t get bit_ , she chanted in her head, kicking and trying to wrest her foot away.

            “Grab a hold, lass!”

            Emma whipped her head around to the welcome sight of Hook swimming towards her with sure strokes. The beast made a lunging attack at him but let go of her ankle to do so. As she closed the distance between her and the pirate, he struck out with his hook, the sharp metal ripping into the monkey’s right wing. It shrieked and launched itself up and halfway out of the water towards them. Hook struck again, missing by just an inch and panic seized her chest.

            All she saw was teeth and horror coming towards them. Grabbing Hook’s shoulders from behind, she kicked them away, her heels hitting together as she did. A burst of magic propelled them backwards and Hook took immediate advantage of the sudden distance between them and their attacker, turning and making for the _Jolly Roger_ without hesitation. Emma followed suit despite the heavy fatigue in her limbs.

            “Henry —”

            “He’s on deck, love. He’s fine.” A rope ladder appeared over the side of the ship as he spoke and Hook guided her towards it. Grabbing the closest rung as he positioned himself behind her, Emma pulled herself up and started to climb. Her son’s smiling face appeared over the rail and she smiled back in relief, the tight fear in her chest loosening at seeing him apparently safe and well.

            She chanced a look down when they were about halfway up but the blast of magic had either stunned their foe or thrown him back as well because the flying monkey was nowhere to be seen. Emma ignored the twinge of loss and betrayal in her chest and focused on the only thing that mattered — getting back to her son. 

* * *

            Killian hauled himself back up onto the _Jolly Roger_ just after Emma, breathing heavy from their fight with whatever the hell had attacked her. Henry had immediately launched himself at his mother and he moved away to give them space.

            He couldn’t stop staring. Killian knew that he should have snapped back into action by now. His crew were milling about the three of them, murmuring amongst themselves and he should be busy ordering them back to work. He should check to make certain their attacker was gone, ensure sure that there were no other winged beasts in the area. He needed to get Emma and her boy down to safety just in case, and set a new course back towards her parents. His brain was filled with lists of things that needed doing, questions that required answers, but he was effectively stunned and rooted to the spot.

            Emma was _here_. She wouldn’t know him, but that hardly mattered. Once he got her back to her parents, Regina would be able to concoct some magic to return their lost memories. The Saviour had haunted his days and his dreams and her presence on his ship should have been impossible but now she was nearly close enough to touch. She had never wanted to leave them behind — he should have known that she’d be brilliant enough to find a way back even without her memories.

            He heard Henry say something about “pirates” and Emma looked up, smiling briefly before wrapping her arms around herself to try and rub the warmth back into them. Seeing her cold and hearing the worry in Henry’s voice spurred him back to action. Picking his coat up off the deck he offered it to Emma before holding his hand out to her son to introduce himself.

            “Captain Killian Jones, lad. I give you my word you and your mum will come to no harm aboard the _Jolly Roger_.”

            The small smile was back on Emma’s face and she nudged her son with her elbow as she draped the coat over her shoulders, not bothering to slip her arms into the sleeves. Henry’s brows furrowed for a moment before he accepted the proffered hand. “I’m Henry. And my mom’s Emma. You’re really a pirate?”

            “Aye, I’m afraid so,” he answered, letting go of Henry’s hand to scratch behind his ear.

            “And you have a hook for a hand.”

            Killian winced. He’d hoped the boy hadn’t noticed that as he’d stripped his coat off and dove in the water to help Emma. “I am on occasion known as Captain Hook, aye.”

            “Like, _the_ Captain Hook?”

            “Is there another I should be aware of?”

            “He’s looking for the perm and waxed mustache.” Emma’s choice of phrase and pursed smirk had him wondering exactly how deep her memories of Storybrooke were buried; she didn’t seem to have any fear of him or his crew despite his confirmation that they were pirates. Were the lost memories rising to the surface now that she was in the Enchanted Forest? Could it be connected to her magic, or the fact that she was the saviour? Henry didn’t seem to think he or the ship were familiar at all and Killian opened his mouth to question when she beat him to the punch.

            “Not that I don’t appreciate the coat, but do you have someplace I can change? And maybe some clothes I could change into?”

            “Ah, aye, follow me. Mister Smee!” The portly red-capped sailor stepped forward and Henry’s eyes lit up. “Would you be so kind as to give the young sir here a tour of the ship? And _just_ a tour of the ship, mind you. No need to fill the lad’s head with unnecessary tales. The rest of you lot get back to work.” 

* * *

            Emma pressed her palms against the table in Hook’s cabin and forced out an exhale, squeezing her eyes shut. Now that it was calm and they were safe she could feel the insanity of the last few hours threatening to overwhelm her. That morning she’d been perfectly content, in the middle of a cross-country road trip with her son and boyfriend, almost halfway out of Kansas. They’d stopped for lunch at a tiny little restaurant in the middle of nowhere and the owner had invited Henry to see the farm animals out back. The next thing she knew a pair of shoes were being forced on her feet and she had _remembered_. She’d barely even had time to process what that meant when Walsh had transformed into (of all things) a flying monkey and attacked them. The older woman had pushed Henry out of the way, getting bit by the creature in the process. She’d ushered them down into a storm cellar and they’d barely had time for any sort of explanation before Walsh — _the monkey_ , she repeated to herself — had broken through the door.

            After that it was chaos. The woman had changed too and Emma had fired her weapon. Everything had been wings and gunshots in the small space and in the flurry of it all Emma had clutched Henry to her and called the tornado.

            She had to focus. Henry didn’t have his memories and he needed her to help make sense of everything. She had to find out what Hook knew about the Wicked Witch and if he had any news from her parents. Most importantly, she had to not have a breakdown over everything that had just been ripped away from her. She’d been happier than she could ever remember in the past year but now it turned out that she’d been a pawn, watched and manipulated by forces she’d had no memory of. Ignorance truly was bliss, but even that was too much for the saviour to have.

            Pushing away traitorous tears, Emma set herself to searching through the chest Hook had opened for her. She selected a pair of black cotton pants that would definitely be loose on her and a similarly too large navy blue shirt. Peeling the heavy denim off her legs she checked her ankle. The scrapes would need cleaning and bandaging, but she’d thankfully managed to avoid getting bitten. Quickly getting the rest of the way undressed, Emma changed into the borrowed clothes, rolling up the bottom of the pants so she wouldn’t step on them. Digging a belt out of the bottom of the chest, she fastened it around her hips. The shirt hung on her smaller frame, but she assumed she could tie it with some spare rope or something until her clothes dried. Emma spread her wet jeans and tank top out on two of the chairs and ran her fingers through her tangled locks.

            Her hair was a mess and she felt awful, but she also knew that wouldn’t matter once she went back up on deck. She could only imagine the sort of comments she would get from wearing Hook’s clothes around his ship. Not that she could blame him. She’d probably have a comment or two if he showed up in a pair of jeans.

            Starting a braid, her eyes fell to the silver shoes that had brought her here. The _Jolly Roger_ wasn’t where she’d thought they’d end up when she’d clicked her heels together but it probably counted as the day’s only bright spot. Hook would get her to her parents and everything else could be dealt with once she knew what was really going on.

            “Everything alright down there, love?”

            “Everything’s fine,” she called up before adding, “Actually, do you have another belt?”

            Hook opened the hatch and made his way down the steps, coughing loudly and looking away when he saw her attire but otherwise saying nothing. Emma watched as he rummaged around in various drawers, eventually coming up with a wide leather belt to offer her.

            She raised an eyebrow as she took it from him, cinching the shirt tighter around her waist. “No comment, really? You’ve changed in the past year, Hook.”

            “You do remember.”

            Her face softened at his expression. “Yeah, I do.”

            “I wasn’t certain. Your lad… Bloody hell, Swan.”

            She huffed, but froze when she met his eyes and found them filled with such an intense hope and longing that her breath caught in her throat. Hook clenched his fist as if to stop himself from reaching out and before she could think about it Emma had crossed the space between them. Her arms wrapped around him and she buried her face in his coat for a moment, remembering how comforting it had felt wrapped around her, before resting her chin on his shoulder. Hook held her carefully, left arm hesitant down by her waist while his hand pressed into the thick braid between her shoulders.

            “Thank you,” she murmured after a little while, stepping back a bit as he dropped his arms.

            “Did you miss me?” he asked, flashing a smile.

            Emma rolled her eyes but sobered quickly. “I should head back up. I have to try and explain everything to Henry somehow.”

            “He’s more worried about you at the moment.”

            “It’s been a hell of a day.”

            “Stay here and get some rest. I’ve already set our new course and I’ll send Henry down with some food in a bit.”

            “I shouldn’t —”

            “Captain’s orders, Swan.” He winked at her and started back up the steps. About halfway he stopped and turned. “And since you asked, I will say you look quite fetching. I always knew you’d make a good pirate.”

            He was gone before she could think up a response and Emma sighed. She was exhausted in every sense of the word and her heart _hurt_. She had no idea how to tell Henry about Storybrooke and was only beginning to make sense of everything that had happened earlier. Putting her head down for a little while, even if she wasn’t able to sleep, certainly couldn’t hurt.

* * *

 

            Killian watched as Emma shut her eyes and tilted her head back, throat bobbing as she swallowed the first drink of her rum. Setting the glass back down on the table, she sighed. “How much do you know about the Wicked Witch?”

            He raised a brow. “I gather there’s one in particular that you’re concerned with?”

            “Uh, the one from the west, I’m pretty sure.”

            “The west of where?”

            Her eyes squeezed shut. “Oz?”

            “Ah, Oz I’ve heard of. I presume that this Wicked Witch is or was a part of their magical council?”

            “I don’t know anything about a council. I just know that Glinda got a message to Dorothy and the witch is coming after my family.” Emma paused and let her gaze fall to her drink. “You know, yesterday that would have sounded crazy to me.”

            It sounded crazy to him as well, if only because he had no idea who Glinda and Dorothy were, but Killian knew not to press for details. At this point it wasn’t the small facts of the story that were important, but how Emma told it. He lifted his flask to his lips. “I’d have said the same, if someone had told me yesterday that you and I would be sharing a drink in my cabin tonight.”

            A corner of her mouth twitched upwards briefly before falling into a frown. “I was happy this morning. I was on vacation with my son and a man who I thought loved me. Everything was normal and… and perfect. Then it all went to shit.” She took another drink. “Story of my life.”

            He hummed in assent. _The story of everyone’s life_ , he thought. Or at least, everyone he’d ever met. “How did it happen?”     

            She took a shaky breath and picked at something stuck on the table. “We were driving through Kansas and Walsh got it in his head to stop for lunch at this diner in the middle of nowhere. The owner was a woman in her mid-forties and she invited Henry to go see the farm animals behind the restaurant. I guess they both must have known the whole time. I mean, Walsh didn’t pick the place by accident, he wanted the shoes.”

            Killian’s grip tightened around his flask but he pushed down the need to find this ‘Walsh’ and put his hook in the man’s neck. “I take it you’re referring to your sparkly new footwear?”

            “Dorothy — the woman, she… she’s pretty famous in my world for traveling to Oz — she said they’re amplifiers. One person’s magic isn’t enough to cross realms, but with the shoes you just… just click your heels and go. I didn’t know that when she insisted I try them, I thought maybe she was just a strange lonely woman, but as soon as I put them on I remembered everything.”

            “What would happen if you took them off?”

            “I don’t know. I don’t know if I would forget, or if they could get Henry to remember as well. When Walsh saw me wearing them he demanded I give them to him and when I didn’t he… changed.”

            “You discovered he was not the man you thought he was. That he’d known who you truly were even when you didn’t,” he ventured.

            Emma nodded and refilled her drink. “He turned into a flying monkey and attacked us.”

            His eyebrows shot up. “That thing we fought in the water was your erstwhile lover?”

            “Like I said, story of my life,” she muttered, raising her glass and meeting his eyes over the rim.

            He wasn’t quite sure what to say to that, but he knew jumping in with promises of his own honesty would only push her away. Killian leaned forward and tipped his flask towards her. “To better days ahead.”

            She touched her drink to his with a distinct lack of optimism. They both drank and Emma leaned back in her chair. “Putting the slippers on and remembering… it was like waking up from a dream. A _really_ good dream.”

            _She’d set him free from a lifetime without her and lost her easy happiness in the process_ , he thought. “At least you get to see your parents again,” he offered, trying to grasp at any sort of silver lining for her. “We’ll arrive at the queen’s castle within a week if the wind stays with us.”

            “Why did you leave?”

            Mirroring her posture, he leaned back and let the flask hanging loosely between his fingers. “There wasn’t anything for me in the Enchanted Forest. Why would I stay?”

            Emma’s eyes searched his for a moment before she dropped her gaze and stood, downing the rest of her drink. “I should go. Goodnight, Hook.”

            He stood as well and followed her to the stairs. “If you need anything, either Smee or I will be at the helm. It might be best to give the rest of the crew a wider berth — they’re new, and I don’t trust them.”

            “I’ll tell Henry not to pester any of them. Thanks for the drink.”

            “Any time, love.”

            He couldn’t help but admire her form as she climbed out of the cabin and closed the hatch shut behind her. The improvement in his outlook seemed selfish while the woman he loved was mourning the loss of her happiness. But her happiness had been based on lies, and if there was one thing he knew about Emma Swan, one thing that she had asserted about herself from the very start, it was that she would not stand for lies.

            She’d been hurt by her lover and was worried for her family, but she was no longer lost. Killian knew that she could be happy again. She may be the saviour, but she would not have to do it alone. He had no intention of going anyplace that wasn’t by her side.

            But would she be open to his aid if she knew what he had done in the year without her?

* * *

 

_“You have to use your magic and get out of here. Take this and use it if you must.”_

_Emma’s fingers closed around the gun as it was pressed into her hand. “I don’t — what do I do?”_

_“You know the story; click your heels three times and think of home.”_

_The door to the storm cellar was ripped open and she spun, aiming the gun towards the silhouetted monster. Dorothy yelled something she couldn’t make out and Emma’s attention was pulled by the older woman as she changed into a monster before her very eyes. Too late, she realized that Walsh was barrelling down towards them and it was too late to get a shot off._

_The small space filled with the sound of beating wings and beastly shrieks. She fired when the creature that had been Dorothy Gale made for the corner where Henry was huddled behind some crates. The flying monkey disappeared in a cloud of smoke but the gun got knocked out of her hand and then she was on her back, pushing upwards with all her strength, trying to keep Walsh at arm’s length even as she struggled to reach for something, anything that could be used as a weapon. He suddenly went limp, and as his weight fell on her she saw Henry standing over them, a lead pipe shaking in his hand._

_Pushing the monkey off of her, she stood and pulled her son tight to her chest._

_“Mom, we have to go.”_

_A fresh burst of panic flared in her chest at the thought of using magic again. “I don’t know if I can.”_

_“I believe in you. You can do it, Mom.”_

_She gave him a shaky smile and kissed his forehead, clicking her heels together and trying to hold onto the idea of ‘home.’ With Storybrooke and New York gone, she wasn’t sure she knew what home was anymore, but as the twister descended and lifted them and the stirring monkey up from the storm cellar she hoped it would take them to the right place. Wherever that was._

 

            Emma woke with a start and sat up on the narrow bed in the officer’s quarters that Hook had cleared out for her. The sheets were soaked with sweat and her borrowed clothes clung to her skin. Memories of those horrifying minutes in the storm cellar were still fresh in her mind and she knew she’d get no more sleep that night.

            _I actually kind of liked you_. That’s what Walsh had said right before turning into a flying monkey and attacking her son. He’d kind of liked her. She had loved him, let him spend time with Henry, let herself imagine a future together as a family, and he had kind of liked her. Walsh had wormed his way into her heart with his smiles and his patience and it had been a ploy all along. It was always going to end this way. One way or another, he would have betrayed her.

            New York had been a beautiful dream, but the reality was that it had turned out exactly like everything else had in her life.

            Throwing off her thin blanket, she stood and left the room, latching the door softly behind her. Henry’s quarters were right next to hers, and she peeked in on him, glad to see that he was fast asleep. Even without his memories, her son was nothing if not resilient and he’d taken to their new adventure as well as she could have hoped. Walking as quietly as her new footwear would allow — she had slept with them on, afraid she’d forget if she took them off — she made her way up on deck.

            Immediately her eyes were drawn upwards. Emma had never seen so many stars in her life. When she’d left Phoenix for Tallahassee she’d sometimes slept in her car out in what felt like the middle of nowhere, but even those nights couldn’t compare to the sheer number of stars twinkling overhead. For a long moment she just stood there and looked up at them, letting the starlight and cool sea air wrap around her and remind her of what beauty felt like.

            Rubbing her arms against the night air, she turned towards the helm and was relieved to see that it was Hook, and not Smee, who was steering the ship at this hour. Well, as much as he could steer with his back to the wheel. Emma let her mind drift back to when they’d parted ways before the curse, how at first she’d thought to save him for last, and then maybe not say goodbye at all. The idea of it had sat tight in her chest and hurt like it hurt to leave her family. Emma had never been good at saying goodbye — she either held on too tight or not at all. But Hook hadn’t let her slip away and she remembered being glad for it. The last thing she’d seen before crossing the town line had been him, her parents, and Regina in the rear view mirror with magic smoke bearing down on them. Then she hadn’t remembered anything about them at all.

            Until now. The memory of his promise to think of her filled some of the cracks in her heart. He’d kept that promise, she was sure of it, had seen it in his eyes earlier in the day. Pushing the hair out of her face, she started making her way up towards him but stopped when she realized he was talking to someone blocked from her view.

            “Have you told her?” Emma closed her eyes and focused on placing the voice. She was fairly certain it was Tinkerbell, but what was the fairy doing on the _Jolly Roger_?

            “No, I haven’t bloody told her! She’s enough to deal with without either of us adding to it.”

            “Oh don’t worry, I’m not going to be the one to do it. This is up to you and your conscience, Hook.”

            “Now you sound like the bloody cricket. Just take the damn message to her parents for me, will you?”

            Emma froze by the main mast, watching as the fairy shrank down until she was just a green speck of light before flying away. Immediately her mind started racing, trying to figure out what Hook wasn’t telling her and how it could involve the fairy. She remembered his ridiculous innuendo outside of Granny’s and stomped on the jealousy that flared in her chest.

            Turning around, she headed back below deck before Hook could notice she was there. She didn’t have the energy to deal with him purposefully keeping something from her. Surely, if it had to do with her family or the witch he would have told her. Something must have happened in the year that she’d been gone. Something bad, given that he didn’t want her to know about it and yet Tinkerbell _did_.

            Emma had enough lies and half-truths to sort through without Hook’s omission adding to everything. She didn’t need to be coddled. All she needed from him was the truth.

            Lying back down on the narrow bed, she rolled over to face the wall and waited until it was bright enough to get up. 

* * *

 

            It was early morning and Killian still hadn’t slept. His initial plan had been to take the first night shift at the helm before rousing Smee, but then Tinkerbell had shown up with her questions about a magical disturbance and — once he’d told her of the tornado that had brought Emma and Henry across realms — her not-so-subtle recommendation of unburdening his conscience with regards to a certain mermaid.

            Killian had no intention of telling Emma anything about how he’d gotten the _Jolly Roger_ back. Her trust had already been broken by the monster; the last thing he needed was for her to believe he’d reverted to villainy.

            He was a pirate. He would always be a pirate. But the blood thirst he’d harboured for centuries had faded, and he made sure to keep his ‘robbery on the high seas’ act far from the Charmings and their ilk. The problem he now faced was that while Emma and her family viewed him as an ally, his crew knew him as the charming-yet-vicious captain who’d taken down Blackbeard. He knew which one he wanted to be, but that wouldn’t make it any easier when they arrived into port.

            He was pulled from his thoughts by the sight of Henry emerging from below deck. The boy — if he could still be called that — had grown considerably in the past year, and he headed towards Killian as soon as he spotted him, still rubbing the sleep from bleary eyes.

            Killian put a grin on his face and gesture wide across the bow with his hook. “So what do you think of the ship?” he asked.

            Henry grinned, all trace of sleep suddenly gone. “It’s a pirate ship. It’s automatically way cooler than the boats I’d go on when Mom left me with one of her friends.”

            “Your mum often left you to the local fishermen while she went about her day?”

            He shrugged. “Sometimes I got to go fishing. There was one friend, he was restoring the boat so we couldn’t take it out of the marina or anything. Mostly I helped him fix it up, but sometimes we’d just sit on the deck and play cards and stuff.”

            “So in other words I should be making you earn your passage to the queen’s castle.”

            Henry’s eyes lit up. “I could go up to the crow’s nest and be look-out,” he said, trying hard to stay casual.

            Killian’s eyebrows shot up at the suggestion and a resounding “ _No_ ,” came from Emma as she strode towards them, silver shoes glinting in the morning sun.          

            “There is no way you’re going up there, kid.”

            Henry’s face fell and Killian hid his smile. He’d obviously been trying to obtain permission before his mother woke and joined them. “You don’t want to be up there, lad, trust me. It’s more of a punishment than anything else. You’d wind up horribly seasick from the ship’s movement.”

            Emma gave him a tight smile — barely more than a twitch of the lips — before wrapping an arm around her son’s shoulders and drawing him away with the promise of breakfast. Killian forced himself not to follow them. She hadn’t said so much as one word to him in greeting. It was clear that she needed more time. How much more was another matter entirely. He knew well enough… give Emma Swan too much time, and she’d take the space to go with it. 

* * *

            They’d been sailing for about three days and Emma couldn’t tell who was avoiding whom anymore. She’d tried asking Hook about what had happened the past year only for him shrug it off as unimportant. She couldn’t stand knowing otherwise only for her overtures to be rebuffed. They were friendly enough around others and she appreciated how good he was with Henry, but neither had tried to talk to the other alone recently. It stung a little in a way that she didn’t want to examine. Not when so much of her time was occupied with telling Henry about her real memories and trying to re-tell the stories from the book as best she could remember them.

            Emma thought she must have the most amazing kid in the world — for him to be accepting and curious instead of hurt and afraid after being told their life together hadn’t been real.

            “Mom?” Henry poked his head into the galley where she was sitting at the table carving off slices of pear.

            “Yeah, kid?”

            Glancing down the hallway to make sure they were alone, he moved to sit across from her at the table, hand extended for a piece of fruit. Emma raised an eyebrow at him and motioned for him to get his own. With a martyred groan, he stood and grabbed one of the last pears from the bowl on the counter. She watched him, waiting for whatever it was that he’d left his dice game to come talk to her about.

            “Are you and Killian not together anymore because you were with Walsh in New York?” he asked finally, biting into the fruit and trying to keep the juice from running down his chin.

            Emma snorted so hard that she almost dropped her knife. “Why — why would you think that we were together?” she sputtered.

            He shrugged. “Because of how he looks at you. And because when you used the magic slippers we wound up on a pirate ship six days away from your parents.” Her eyes went wide and he grinned. “It’s okay, Mom. I like him. He’s cool.”

            “It’s not… it’s not like that. Killian and I weren’t ever together. It was… complicated. It still is.”

            “Because of Walsh?”

            _And Neal, and because he’s keeping something from me_. “Because of a lot of things, kid.”

            “I think you should give it a chance. Not every guy is gonna turn into a flying monkey.”

            “With my luck? You never know.” 

* * *

            The woman existed to vex him. They had another day or so before the _Jolly Roger_ would reach port and Emma had scarcely spoken to him in all the time they’d spent together. He knew she was troubled by the life she’d left behind in New York but every time he attempted to speak to her on the subject she’d turn it around and demand details of the year he’d spent without her. The full truth — the rum, the banditry, how everything he’d turned to after losing Liam and Milah had lost its appeal — would only push her further away, but his dancing around the matter with swashbuckling stories had predictably also failed to win his way into her graces.

            Couldn’t she see that there was no point in it? There was nothing he could do now about the choices he’d made. It didn’t matter how much he regretted failing to help Ariel — he couldn’t change it, and his remorse wouldn’t help Emma defeat this latest threat. Helping Emma, keeping her and Henry safe… it was the only thing that mattered anymore.

            Smee jumped a little as he approached to take his turn at the helm, and the former boatswain cast a nervous glance around to be sure no one was within earshot. “Captain,” he started, tugging on his hat with twitching fingers. “The men have been wondering… what kind of ransom do you expect we’ll get for returning our guests to the Enchanted Forest?”

            Killian didn’t deign to even glance at the man before replying. “There will be no ransom, Mr. Smee.”

            “Payment, then.” At his glare the man winced and took a step backwards. “Reward?”

            Gritting his teeth, he stepped closer until he was leering down at his long-time associate. “Listen to me and listen very closely,” he said, voice low and menacing. “We are returning Swan and her boy to her family because to do otherwise would be the epitome of bad form. There will be no ransom money, and there will be no reward. Every man on this ship owes their life to the Saviour for one thing or another and I will not tolerate further questions as to her supposed value.”

            Smee cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Apologies, Captain, but the crew won’t like it. They’re Blackbeard’s men and they’re here for profit, not good form.”

            “Then they can bloody well leave the ship when we make port! My decision is final. Question me on this again and you will do so at your peril.” He’d protect her from every threat there was, be it witches, flying monkeys, or a mutinous pirate crew. If only she’d quit being so stubborn and _let him_.

            As if summoned by his thoughts, Emma appeared on deck at that moment, meeting his eyes and making her way towards him. Killian sighed. He was in no mood to deal with the Saviour and her frustrating, passive-aggressive stubbornness at the moment.

            “Hey, we need to talk.”

            “Do we? That’s a change.” If it came out harsher than he intended, he blamed Smee and his first mate’s reminder that Emma was no safer with him than she would be on any other vessel.

            She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

            Killian leaned forward, a sarcastic smirk firmly in place. “It’s difficult not to notice that despite several overtures on my part, we have not talked in any meaningful capacity since the night you first arrived.”

            “Oh, please. If so, that’s because you have no business interrogating me on the last year of my life when you’ve offered up _nothing_ of yours.”

            He gestured about the ship with his hook. “I should think that’d be obvious.”

            “There you go again,” she said, shaking her head. “You won’t lie, but you’re not exactly forthcoming with the truth.”

            “A pirate’s life, love. That’s my tale, and I’m sticking to it.”

            “I don’t believe you.”

            _Damn infuriating woman!_ “You won’t believe me, yet you spend months believing a monkey who did nothing but use you from the start!”

            “I didn’t know that. _I_ was in love! But as usual, he wasn’t who he said he was and I got my heart broken.” He opened his mouth to reply but she cut him off, planting her feet and jabbing him in the chest. “Are _you_ who you say you are, Hook?”

            He stepped closer to her, forcing her to drop her hand, and was about to remind her exactly who he said he was and what he’d sworn he’d do when a shout came from the crow’s nest. Killian cursed and turned away from her, withdrawing his spyglass and searching the sky until he spotted three dark shapes moving swiftly towards the ship.

            “Get Henry, and get him down to my cabin. It will be safest there.”

            “Is it —”

            “Monkeys. Three, maybe more, headed this way.”

            She nodded, the friction between them gone in the face of danger. Henry had picked out a spot on the main deck and was practicing his knots but came immediately when she called him over. Killian opened the hatch for them and began giving orders to Smee but was distracted by Emma following her son into the cabin, most likely to offer him some reassurance before returning.

            He bit his lip and eyed the open hatch. She’d be furious with him, but it was her that the monkeys would come after and he’d promised to keep her safe. Closing the hatch before she could re-emerge, he bolted it shut and left the helm to Smee as he ordered the cannons to be readied.

            One way or another, he thought grimly, she’d be the bloody death of him. Either he’d die defending her, or she’d kill him herself. 

* * *

            Emma jumped the last couple steps down to the cabin, landing loudly behind Henry and immediately heading to where she knew Hook kept his spare weapons, including an old pistol she’d seen him cleaning once or twice. She didn’t know how good its range would be, or even if it was loaded, but she’d feel better with a gun on her. Worst case scenario she could always whip it at someone.

            “Henry, I need you to stay down here until I come back, okay?” she said, picking up a cutlass and testing its weight and reach in her grip.

            “What — what’s going on?”

            “There are some flying monkeys out there, but we’re going to take care of them. I just need you to stay here where it’s safe.”

            “But won’t they come after you? What happens if... if... you know.”

            He trailed off and Emma’s heart clenched. Putting the cutlass aside, she bent down and cupped his face between her hands. “Hey, I am going to be okay. Remember that dragon I told you I beat? A couple flying monkeys are nothing compared to that. They don’t even breathe fire.” He chuckled and she smiled, kissing him on the forehead. “I will be back as soon as it’s over. I promise.”

            “Just please don’t get bit and turned into an evil were-monkey.”

            She started to reassure him when the realization hit her. Emma’s mouth fell open and Henry pulled back questioningly. “Shit. I never told Hook about the bites. I’ve gotta go, kid.” She kissed the top of his head again and picked her cutlass back up, checking the pistol quickly and heading for the stairs.

            Truthfully, she couldn’t really remember whether or not she had mentioned Dorothy turning into a monkey after being bitten by Walsh but it was the sort of detail that might have gotten lost at the time. And it wasn’t like she and Hook had talked again after that first night. If she _had_ told him, he might have forgotten, and the crew would need to be warned as well. Three monkeys she was confident they could handle. A dozen would be more of a problem.

            Emma took the ladder-like steps as quickly as she could, pushing up against the cabin’s door and stumbling a little when it didn’t budge. Frowning, she pushed again but again it didn’t open.

            He’d locked her in. The knowledge sat tight in her chest as she pounded against the wood with the side of her fist. “Hook! Hook, open the damn door!”

            She could hear shouting up on deck and swore under her breath, panic taking over. Again and again she pounded her fist against the hatch. It was all her fault. He was going to turn into a witch’s circus freak and she’d lose him too, all because she couldn’t remember if she’d warned him or not. She was going to lose him and then she’d be alone, in the middle of the ocean, with no idea how to get her and Henry to safety.

            Emma shouted again, knowing it would make no difference. He’d locked her in on purpose, he sure as hell wasn’t going to let her out in the middle of the fight. An explosion of cannon fire caught her off guard and she grabbed onto the railing for support. Another cannon shot but this time she was ready. Emma shook her head, trying to clear it. She sucked in a breath and pulled on her determination, replacing fear with a plan of action. She would _not_ let the witch take the one person she could rely on at the moment. She may have had New York stolen from her but Walsh and the witch would get nothing else. Emma Swan would protect each and every good thing she had left. Starting with Hook.

            Descending the stairs purposefully, she set to work tearing the cabin apart looking for something she could use to pick the lock. Henry helped, and between the two of them it wasn’t long before she was crouched up on the top step and setting to work. 

* * *

            Killian stood and scanned the sky for any sign that the blasted beasts were returning with reinforcements. The three that had initially been spotted had been driven off by discharging the port-side cannons but he knew that the closer they got to the Enchanted Forest and whatever danger Emma’s parents were in, the more likely the witch would cause problems for them.

            It was not going to be enjoyable suggesting to Emma that she and Henry stay below deck until the _Jolly Roger_ made port. Especially after he’d locked her in his cabin.

            He suspected that they had merely encountered a scouting party. Whether the Wicked Witch’s spy had reported that Emma was no longer in the Land Without Magic or she’d realized something was amiss on her own, Killian would rest easier once he knew what sort of danger they were heading into.

            A shout went up from the look-out and he tensed, eyes quickly fixing on a dark shape up ahead gliding on the air currents. It was hanging high over the water and was smaller than the monkeys they had just encountered, but he waited to see if it would come closer regardless. As he’d suspected, it turned out to be merely an eagle hunting along the rocky shore. They were sailing south along the coast now, and it stood to reason that there would be more birds in the vicinity.

            “Hook? Hook!”

            He swore and turned to find Emma already on the main deck, searching for him.

            “ _Killian_!”

            He knew she’d be furious when he eventually let her out of his cabin, but suddenly _he_ was furious with _her_ as well. He’d locked her down there for her own safety and that of her boy.

            She better not have broken the door.

            He stormed over towards her and grabbed her arm roughly. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

            “Are you bit?” she asked, ignoring the question. Her eyes scanned him for injury and Killian grit his teeth to keep from berating her further. She was giving him enough problems with his crew without them witnessing a would-be lovers’ quarrel. “ _Are you bit?_ ”

            “No. It was a scouting party. We drove them off with some cannon fire. I’ll repeat myself, love: What. Are. You. Doing?”

            Rather than answer she slapped him hard across the face. “Don’t you ever fucking do that to me again.”

            Killian cracked his jaw against the sting, calling on every ounce of willpower he had to not immediately do exactly that — drag her below deck and lock her there without consideration. “I’ll not apologize for keeping you and the lad safe. It may have been only a patrol but if they’d seen you and your shiny footwear it might have gotten very ugly, very fast.”

            “That is not your call to make.”

            “Onboard _my_ ship it is. I said I’d deliver you safe to your parents, Emma, and I mean to do exactly that.”

            “Is that all you intend to do? Deliver me?”

            Everything around them seemed to stop and hold still, the noise of the crew disappearing until it was just them and the space they’d let harden between them.

            He stepped closer to her. “What is it you want of me, Emma?”

            The unspoken _you can have everything_ hung in the air between them. She said nothing, eyes scanning his and searching, as always, for a lie, for a reason to push him away and retreat behind her walls. Killian stood his ground and waited for the denial he knew would come.

            “I want what I had before,” she breathed.

            “It wasn’t real.”

            “It was to me.”

            He wanted to kiss her. Wanted to press his lips to hers until she acknowledged that this too was real. Instead he forced a tight smile and turned on his heel, striding back up towards the helm. He paused when he reached the steps to the quarterdeck but kept his back to her. “I’ll not have your presence endangering yourself or the crew. You and the boy will stay below deck until we reach port tomorrow afternoon. I’ll send Smee to advise you when it’s time to disembark.” 

* * *

            Emma sat tucked into the bow of the ship, hugging her knees to her chest as she looked up at the clouds and stars. Hook may have banned her from the deck, but he’d retired to his cabin for the night and his crew had been instructed to give her a wide berth. Besides, she reasoned, monkeys saw no better than humans in the dark, and she’d made herself small enough that she wouldn’t be spotted.

            She _felt_ small. Had ever since they’d gotten to the Enchanted Forest. Small and afraid and helpless in a way that she hated. She knew why the twister hadn’t taken them to the castle she’d been born in, or to wherever her parents and Regina were now. None of it was familiar. Being here... it wasn’t something that she had missed.

            When they’d first met, Neal had told her that you knew you had a home when you missed it, and Emma had been trying all her life to find a place she wanted to return to. That drive had been erased in her false memories to the point where she now wondered if she and Henry had wound up in New York simply because it was the last place they’d been outside of Storybrooke.

            She didn’t miss the city, but she did miss how she’d felt living there. She missed feeling strong and happy. Her last trip to the Enchanted Forest hadn’t exactly been a showcase of competence, and she was afraid of the danger she was pulling her son into. She didn’t know what they’d be up against when they reached land and after today she wasn’t sure if Hook would be coming with them. Emma had done nothing but push his buttons ever since overhearing him and Tinkerbell. She couldn’t help it. Hook saw straight through to her vulnerability and never failed to call her out on it, even while holding tight to his own facade.

            She was tired of it. Tired of feeling weak in front of him even as he praised her strength. With the exception of when they’d said goodbye at the town line things had been strained between them since getting back from Neverland. It wasn’t what she wanted. They were better than this distance between them. She didn’t miss anything in the Enchanted Forest. But even before leaving Storybrooke, she had missed _him_.

            And the shoes had brought her to him.

            Emma stared at her feet, heart beating loud in her chest. The silver slippers were dark, only a hint of moonlight reflecting off their surface but to her their magic had never shone brighter. Henry had been right all along. Maybe Hook — _Killian_ — wasn’t her home, but he was part of it. From the moment he’d come back with the bean, he’d been a part of it.

            Pushing herself up, she walked briskly across the deck to where Smee was manning the helm. He opened his mouth to say something as she bent to open the hatch to Killian’s cabin but she shot him a dark enough look that he thought better of it. There was a lantern still lit, and she was grateful for the light as she took the steps quickly, closing the door overhead before descending the rest of the way.

            Killian had stood to lean against the near side of the table when she entered, but she could tell that he had been sitting at the bench. He’d tidied up since her escape earlier, and his logbook and a bottle of rum now sat open by the window, bits of label that he’d picked off littering the wooden surface. He didn’t say anything, just stood watching her with his arms crossed over his chest, not the least bit surprised that she’d broken his order to stay below with the crew.

            He looked… tired, she thought. Emma stared back, one hand gripping the rail behind her for support while her heart beat loud in her ears. Any words she’d been about to say had died on her tongue the moment his eyes had met hers. There would be no going back after this. For a brief, shattering moment she considered running away. Thought about climbing back up on deck and hiding away with Henry until they could slip away into the forest.

            She peeled her fingers off the handrail instead, and crossed the floor until she was standing in front of him, close enough to be in his space the way he so often stepped into hers. His arms dropped to his sides and he screwed his eyes shut, forcing out a sharp exhale. Emma took her time, letting her fingers trace along the scar on his cheek, watching how his eyelids fluttered at the contact. Finally, she closed the last distance between them and touched her lips to his.

            He didn’t move. Killian continued to grip the edge of the table even as his mouth opened under hers. He sighed into her and she pressed closer, her hand coming around to tangle in his hair. Only then did he touch her, bringing his hand to her cheek as his other arm wrapped around and held her tight.

            If their first kiss in the Neverland jungle had been an explosion of heat then this one was a slow burn, soft and reverent as they caressed and explored each other. Emma gripped the charms of Killian’s necklace in her left hand as his brace ran up and down her spine, neither wanting the other to break away. She let out a soft moan when his fingers tangled in her hair, the sound swallowed up by the fervor building between them.

            And though the passion grew more heated and the kiss itself stretched on until it could no longer be called a simple, singular thing — until it could easily have turned into something _more_ — they stayed rooted where they stood. Killian made no move to take control of the kiss, and Emma wondered if he believed this would be another “one-time thing.” He held her as though he were afraid she’d disappear at any moment, as though she were only some figment of a dream.

            It was that hesitation, that uncertainty, which finally made her pull away. Their breath mingled in the thick air between them and Emma pressed her forehead to his, not wanting the moment to end. Now that she’d stopped fighting it — stopped fighting _him_ and the pull that he had on her heart — it was all so simple.

            “Emma,” he murmured. She could hear the plea in it, the need for reassurance that she knew the choice she was making.

            She drew back only enough to meet his eyes, her fingers digging into the soft leather of his coat. “I’m tired of living in the past,” she said, letting him find the honesty in her eyes. “And I’m tired of looking for reasons not to trust you.”

            His lips twitched into a wry half-smile. “Well, I am a pirate, after all.”

            Emma pulled away a little more but kept her grip on his collar, needing him to understand she meant her words. “You’re more than that. Whatever it was, whatever happened in the past year... I don’t care. I crossed realms when it shouldn’t be possible and I landed miles away from where I thought I would. I’m not an idiot. I know what that means, what this is. I’m not running from it anymore.” She brought her right hand down to rest over his heart and took a deep breath. “I want you with me. You asked me before and that’s my real answer. I want you with me.”

            Killian’s hand followed the line of her jaw down to her neck, pushing her hair behind her shoulder. “Always. I will be by your side always. For as long as you’ll let me.”

            Emma smiled and closed her eyes as he leaned in to seal his vow upon her lips. “Good.”


End file.
